Sorrow's New Dance
by LaceyLilac
Summary: Wendla may have escaped death, but what other sufferings await her and Melchior? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

She doesn't remember how she escaped.

It was a Thursday morning. She remembered a bright light shinning in her eyes while lying on a table of some sorts. Wendla remembered swallowing a tiny pill, screaming and running away, and then everything went black. Then she slightly remembered waking up on a couch in a small apartment. There had been a note:

Wendla,

I'm just going to sum this up for you. You were at an abortion office, but nothing happened to you. You escaped. I found you lying in the cold and brought you to my house where you slept for three days straight from the medicine you received and exhaustion. Now, everyone in Wernigerode thinks you're dead. Melchior wants to meet at the grave yard tonight. But you must beat him there before he jumps to conclusion. Don't be late. If you need anything, make yourself at home.

Ilse.

But she was running now, headed toward the Wernigerode graveyard. She promised herself she would thank Ilse for helping her. Her whole family thought she was dead. She had seen the newspaper cut-out titled 'Young Bergman Dies of Anemia' and how her family was distraught from the loss of their daughter. Wendla clutches her stomach in pain. She had been running for so long. She was finally in hearing distance of the grave when she heard an enormous cry.

"NO!" Melchior wailed while lying on top of the fresh grave of his love. Someone had put a picture of her by her grave. She flashed a beautiful smile for the photo. She looked so young, so innocent. So alive. Melchior grasped the picture towards his heart. He pulled out his razor. He stared at the smooth blade and caressed it around his fingers. He put the tip of the blade to his finger and felt a sharp ping. The blade had drawn a speck of blood. He lifted the knife to his eye level. Right behind him he heard quick footsteps, but he didn't care. He took the blade and slashed open skin. He waited for the blood to fill his lungs but he felt no pain.

"Ow!" a girl screamed and Melchior was on his feet in protection. Wendla quickly wrapped her other hand around the wound on her arm and looked deep into Melchior's eyes, trying not to show how much it hurt.

"W-Wendla? You're alive?' he asked in awe.

Wendla gave a soft smile though the pain still stung her arm. "I'm here, Melchi. My mother tried to kill our child. Somehow I escaped and the doctor told everyone I was dead. They had a ceremony and that was it. But I'm alive. I was drugged and have been asleep for three days." She moved closer to him. Melchior looked at her, bewildered, but he slowly moved his hand towards her round cheek. He wanted to make sure he wasn't really dead or if this was Wendla's spirit. At last, he felt the warmth of her skin and then he crashed into her. He brought her into a strong embrace, like she would slip away any minute.

"Wendla, I'm so sorry about your arm" he whispered while wrapping a torn piece of his shirt around it.

"You should be. How could you ever kill yourself? You've seen what it did to Moritz parents. They'll never get over it. And If I had come one second later, you would be dead and I would have nowhere to go."

"Well, according to this, you'd be dead too." Melchior smirked but there was slight pain behind it. Wendla giggled, which seemed impossible. She had escaped death and saved the man she loves from killing himself. She should've felt like an emotional wreck. But somehow under the circumstances, she was filled with joy that she could actually see him again, feel him.

Lightning crashed across the sky. Wendla jumped.

"We need to get out of here," Melchior said while helping her up, "I think we should go home."

Wendla shook her head. "What? I can't go home! I'm dead, remember?"

Melchior winced as the sight of her tombstone flickered in his mind. Though he knew she was alive, he still felt the pain of seeing the tombstone and how it was a lurking possibility.

"Wait," Wendla exclaimed. "I know where we can go!"

"Ilse?" she called, hesitantly opening the door.

"Come in! Wendla what are you doing back- Oh hello Melchior. So you two found each other." She dropped her eyes to the bloody gash on Wendla's arm. "Wow, what happened to your arm?"

"Long story. Can you fix it?"

"It's going to hurt but, yeah I can."

It took 15 minutes to sow up Wendla's wound. She kept her lips tight during the operation to keep from screaming. After Ilse was finished, Wendla told Ilse about how she found Melchior, after reading her letter, about to kill himself.

"I put my arm in front of the blade so he couldn't cut his neck." Wendla leaned over and kissed Melchior's neck and grabbed his hand. She dragged him to their bed. They lay down, facing each other. Wendla brushed her fingertips on his face and finally set her palm on his heart. She began to hum a song and Melchior kissed her nose before the fell asleep in each other's arms.


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to put two chapters up and see who likes it. So if you enjoy it, please review, and then I'll get going on a regular basis. Thanks;)

It had been six months living with Ilse. She wasn't around much because she had kept modeling for the rent money, which Melchior helped with by working in a construction business, building houses and fixing broken walls or roofs. Wendla was now about six and a half months. She wasn't gigantic but she definitely was pregnant.

"We are going to need a doctor," Melchior said one morning. "We don't know what we are doing."

Ilse nodded. "I think I know someone who could help us." She called her old friend from the art colony.

Wendla and Melchior listened.

"Paul? Hey, it's Ilse. I'm calling to ask you for a favor. I know it's been a long time, but I know how great of a doctor you are, you helped me out a lot. Anyways, my friend, well, she is having a child. No, not right now! In about three months. We just need someone to come and check on her and help deliver the baby. Okay see you in a minute. Thank you." Ilse hung up the phone. "Done. He's on his way."

They waited for about thirty minutes then Paul came throught the door. He was a tall, handsome young man, probably 22. He had dark hair and blue eyes.

"Hello Ilse. It's been a long time. And you must be?" He extended his arm out to Melchior.

"Melchior. And this is Wendla."

Paul shook Wendla's hand. "Hello. So may I do an examination?"

Wendla nodded.

After Paul was finished, they all sat on the couch. "Well, everything seems fine. Just make sure you are getting enough nutrients for the baby and yourself. I'll be back when you are 8 months, then check up on you weekly. Okay? Call if you have any questions. Goodbye." And then he left.

Wendla hugged her stomach. _Everything was fine._ But she still felt that something happened when she went in for an abortion. That night flashed behind her lids and she frowned. She drank a liquid and remembers the doctor having a tool. She felt it in her, something that might affect her baby. Then she ran. Wendla rubbed her eyes and shrugged it off.

It had been hard. She knew she wasn't helping. She was just so moody. And Melchior was concerned for her. She had a small frame, and what if something happened? But they had to put those worries aside because today was the day. Wendla felt it. She was nine months and felt fine. They were all sitting on the couch.

Melchior intertwined his fingers with hers then he felt her grip.

Wendla just sat there. "My water broke." She said then smiled. Then she began breathing hard.

Melchior jumped up. "Ilse! Call Paul!" He walked Wendla over to her bed.

Paul came ten minutes later with help. "Okay I'm here. Wendla, deep breaths."

Wendla did exactly what the doctor said.

"Okay. You are ready to push. On three okay? 1, 2, 3!"

Wendla held her breath.

They did this for about an hour. Paul would say go, then Wendla would squeeze Melchior's hand. Melchior would always yell encouragement in her ear then kiss her on her forehead.

Finally, it was over. A loud cry was heard. Paul held the baby. "It's a girl." Wendla and Melchior were thrilled.

"Beautiful," Wendla whispered, and then she started panting. Paul handed the girl to Ilse. He ran over to Wendla.

"Her heart rate." He pumped her heart.

"Wendla? What happened? She was fine!" Melchior frantically touched her and begged her to wake up.

Wendla's eyes fluttered open. She was breathing heavily, but was fine.

"Wendla, take deep breaths. Your body must've not handled the pain. You are too small. David, watch her."

Ilse gave the baby to the new parents. She had huge eyes like Wendla's and her air had little curls in it, just like Melchior's. They kissed her face a murmured words in her ear.

Wendla had a small giggle, "She is very quiet for a new born."

Paul's head snapped up. He noticed something no one else had. Paul took the child again and listened for a pulse. The baby did not move or cry. It was still. He waited and waited but there was nothing. "Ilse, I need to take the baby to another room."

Ilse pointed to her room. Paul took the baby and examined her once more.

"What's wrong? What's going on?" Melchior cried. He still was holding Wendla's hand.

Ilse shook her head. "I don't know. It's fine. Do you have a name?" Ilse knew what happened to the baby, but she couldn't bear to tell them.

Wendla shook her head. "I always thought she was a boy. Did you?"

Melchior nodded. "I thought it might be a girl, so I came up with Mina. It means love."

Wendla had tears down her face. "That's beautiful. Mina Christine Gabor. How's that?"

Melchior smiled. "Perfect. Don't forget to breathe." He kissed her nose.

Paul came out of the room, but Mina wasn't with him.

"Where is she?" Wendla cried.

Paul put his hand over his mouth. "I'm so sorry. Your child has just died."

The room was silent. The words hung in the air. Melchior gasped in horror, but Wendla was completely still.

"Well, what does that mean? What caused this?" Melchior felt the tears fall. _Not my baby girl._ He didn't understand. Everything before was perfect.

Paul sighed. "Her lungs weren't fully developed in time, so she could only take in so much oxygen. That why she was only alive for a short amount of time. It seems that something stopped her lungs from developing."

Wendla stared out in front of her, no emotion. "The night my mother sent me to get an abortion. I think there was some fluid I drank before, but after that, I don't remember." She was speaking in just a whisper.

"That probably had something to do with the death. I'm so very sorry." Paul wiped the tears. He knew how much this couple went through. "Ilse, I need your help." Paul dragged Ilse to the room. "We have to bury the child. Where do you think we should go?"

Ilse shook her head. "I don't know." The tears poured out of her eyes. She didn't understand why this happened to her friends. They've lost so much already. "Melchior should do it. I'll stay with Wendla."

Melchior and Paul walked through the night. They arrived at the place where he and Wendla had talked that spring. He had lost so much because of his child, and God just took her away. "Here," was all he said.

Later that night, Melchior carried Wendla to their bed. He grabbed her face and felt tears again. He had to be strong for her. "Wendla, sweetheart, please talk to me. I love you."

A whimper escaped her lips, but all she said was, "Gone."

Woah, that was deep. :( Just to let you know, this story might be really dramatic to some people. But I think it makes it better. Tell me what you think and give me a review.


	3. Chapter 3

****Thanks for Reading. You guys rock. I want to let you know, that this story is really…. Dramatic, for a lack of better term. And usually no one ever goes through this much crap in a short amount of time. But this is FanFICTION and I am their creator, so what I write, goes. Enjoy and REVIEW! Also, I forgot to tell you that I'm making Melchior and Ilse 19 and Wendla 18. 14 year olds kinda grosses me out.****

Wendla went into a depression for three month. Every morning, Melchior would see her, sitting in the same windowsill, staring out to the street. A dark blue-ish color circled her eyes and her face was sunken in. He would walk over, whisper "I love you", kiss her on the cheek, and went to work. And that was their morning routine. At night Melchior would take Wendla from the windowsill to the bed and lay beside her. She would never sleep. She would move two hours later to the window. Melchior never saw her eat, even when he begged. She just sat as still as a phantom. Melchior wanted to be strong for her, but he was broken on the inside. His baby girl. His Mina. He never had a chance to see her smile, or watch her grow. She was taken from him.

And then one night, Melchior woke up alone in his bed. He sighed and looked to the window sill, but she wasn't there. She was outside the window. "Wendla!" he cried. He pressed his face against the glass, and there she was. She wore a white nightgown and no shoes. She was walking towards to bridge. "NO!" he cried and sprinted out the door. Melchior raced down the steps and out the apartment door. By the time he got across the street, Wendla was taking the first step off the bridge. She closed her eyes and felt the cool water on her skin.

"_I have no family. And no child to create one. I'm wasting Melchior's time."_She closed her eyes and slipped into a hazy dream. _"Goodbye world. Goodbye, Melchi. I love you."_ Melchior threw off his shirt and dived into the cold water. He swam around and looked for dark hair. Then he spotted her. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to the shore. "Wendla," he cried and gave her mouth-to-mouth. "Come on, sweetheart. I can't lose anyone else!" He pressed down on her heart. Finally she opened her eyes. She gagged up the water that blocked her air ways and coughed. Melchior smiled, but felt anger inside him. Wendla just lay there; secretly glad he pulled her out. Melchior pulled his shirt around Wendla's shoulders and carried her home. Not a word escaped either of their lips. After she showered and warmed up, she sat on the bed. Melchior felt his anger bubbling over. He walked over to Wendla and grabbed her jaw. "What were you thinking? Have you just given up! Wendla Berggman, did you even think about me for a second? I haven't given up on us! I never will!" He let go of her, seeing pain across her face. He sighed, "Let me swear to you that I won't give up. I will wait for you forever. Get to bed. You need your sleep." And he promised himself he would try to have patience. He continued his routine the next morning with his daily "I love you" and a kiss on the cheek. But this time, Wendla spoke. "Thank you, for saving my life," she said and then continued her usual slump. Melchior smiled and left, locking the door.

Melchior's patience was fading. Weeks passed and finally, Melchior couldn't stand the pain. He walked over to Wendla who was sitting in the windowsill, but she was facing towards the room. "Damn it, Wendla! You must speak to me!" He knelt down and grasped her shoulders in a fierce hold. "Don't shut me out any longer! I can't take the pain anymore. You almost killed yourself and left me here alone!"He sighed and gently moved a piece of hair out of her face. "Please, Wendla." He buried his face in Wendla's knees and then he heard a soft cry escape from Wendla's mouth. He looked up to her. "I'm so sorry, Melchi." Wendla's voice was monotone and she had a blank stare in her eyes. But her chin wobbled. "It's all my fault. You gave up your entire life and I had ruined it by killing our child. I'm so sorry." She clasped her hand over her mouth, trying to keep the cries from coming out. "And I'm sorry I jumped off the bridge. I know it was wrong and you would be hurt. It would hurt you the way it did when Moritz died. You would look just like Moritz's father did at his funeral. It was stupid."

Melchior looked pained and nodded his head. "It was stupid. And Wendla, it was no one's fault. Sometimes this happens in life. But we have to move on." He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips. "And I don't regret leaving home, because I'm completely in love with you."

And then Wendla began to cry. She kept saying "I'm sorry" through sobs and Melchior shushed her. "Stop saying that. It was an accident no one could have prevented," he whispered in her ear. He pulled her as tightly as possible, afraid she would pull away and become depressed again. Finally, no tears could come out of Wendla's eyes. She looked up at Melchior and planted a small kiss on his lips, the first kiss with feeling from her since the accident. "I love you," she whispered, then grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to the bed where they fell asleep.

****Good Wendla, Good girl. Way to use your words. Now everything should be fine and dandy right? Sorry. You wish. I hope you continue to read though. REVIEW****


	4. Chapter 4

****Welcome back to Sorrow's New Dance, where everything is depressing, but hopefully, you like it enough to keep reading. I REALLY APPRECIATE YOU READING THIS! Enjoy and REVIEW! Tell me what you think****

_-Blood was all over the floor. Wendla lay there, staring at Melchior, a knife protruding from her stomach. "Wendla!" he cried. Wendla slowly pulled out the knife, and the blood was gone. Then she stood up and next to her was Moritz. "Moritz?" he cried but they didn't reply. All of a sudden, a child was in Wendla's arms, Mina. In Moritz hand was a gun. Moritz moved towards him, grabbing Wendla's arm and bringing her with him. She said nothing but stood still. "Join me." Moritz said and he pointed the gun towards Melchior's head. "Moritz? No, please!" Melchior stood and waited to see what Moritz would do. "Fine then." Moritz moved the gun to Wendla's temple and a shot rang out. Everything was black. Water filled his lungs as he saw Wendla's lifeless body lying at the bottom of the river under the bridge-_

"NO!" Melchior woke up with fright, turning his back on Wendla.

"Melchior? Are you all right?" Wendla gently put her hand on his shoulder and he slowly turned around.

And then Melchior began to cry. He didn't try to keep his emotions in like he usually did this time. He cried because of the dream. He cried because of his lost child. He cried for everything he and Wendla went through, almost losing her, twice. Melchior sobbed into Wendla's chest and she held him as close as possible. She brushed her fingers through his hair and whispered reassuring words in his ear.

Finally, he calmed down. "Tell me." She asked as she wiped away his last tear. He shook his head. She grasped his face in her hands. "Hey, don't shut me out the way I did to you. It's alright." He leaned his head towards her and she kissed his forehead, then leaned into his. "Please tell me." She whispered.

Melchior looked into her eyes, sighed, and told her everything that happened, his voice cracking at the last part. Wendla gave a soft smile and kissed his lips. "I'm here," was all she said. And she was right. They're both happy, healthy, and alive. Melchior leaned in and gave a soft kiss on her lips. He pulled away and looked into her eyes. Then they gave in to the longing for each other. He kissed his way up her arm and made his way to her neck. He softly kissed her temples, as in protection of what happened in the dream. He grabbed her close to him and they embraced each other. Wendla pulled him on top of her and kissed his lips. She started to undo the buttons of his shirt. But Melchior pulled away. "Melchi, what's wrong?"

"I can't. We already made that mistake. I can't put you through that again."

"Melchior, it's just you and me. That's it. No parents to worry about the consequences. Nobody. I want you." She kissed the back of his neck. "I still hear your heart. Please, Melchi." Melchior eventually turned around, and they finished what they started.

Everything was perfect. Wendla felt perfect. She woke up to the sun shining through the windows. Melchior was beside her, snoring softly. She felt good inside, some sort of buzz flowed through her limbs. This time around, she wasn't scared nor did she feel guilty. She just felt loved.

Melchior opened his eyes and smiled. He looked at Wendla, whose big brown eyes showed happiness. He hadn't seen that in a while. He planted a kiss on her lips. "Good morning," he whispered. For a moment he felt a ping of guilt. She probably didn't want to have sex, afraid of getting pregnant again.

But then he remembered. _She_ asked_ him_. He felt his heart over-flow with joy and he kissed her all over.

She giggled at his enthusiasm. "Good morning!"

He got up, pulled on his pants, and pulled Wendla up with him. He thought she looked beautiful, though she was only wearing his button up shirt. He reached for the radio and turned it on. The fuzzy speakers played the music as he pulled Wendla towards him. They began to dance.

Wendla pressed her head towards his chest and swayed with him back and forth. "I love you." She sighed and Melchior kissed the crown of her head. They stood there dancing for a long time.

"You could go back, you know." Wendla whispered, and she immediately regretted it.

Melchior became tense. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there is nothing holding you here anymore. You could go home and live your life with your family. I could just live here or move somewhere else. I mean there isn't a child to worry about anymore," she closed her eyes tightly and waited for him to yell at her.

"Well, if it's what you want." Melchior said. His heart was slowly ripping apart.

"I just want you to be happy, Melchi. And if being with your family will make you happy, you should go." She refused to look him in the eye.

Melchior made her look at him. "No. Stop worrying about me and think about what YOU really want. Spare my feelings for once and tell me what you want." He looked deep into her eyes, forcing her to answer.

She placed her forehead into his shoulder, and told him what she wanted.. "I love you. I want you here with me. I don't want you to ever leave me. I want to get married and try to have children and grow old and gray together. I don't want to be alone, and obviously I can't be alone. I've been on twenty-four hour watch for three months."

"Well that's because the last three months, you've been a suicidal mess." He moved a piece of hair out of her eyes and put his head to hers.

Wendla felt a couple of tears. Then she laughed. "I'm tired of crying!"

Melchior laughed "I'm tired of seeing you cry. It makes me sad."He smiled, "So we agree on this relationship?" Wendla nodded. Then he grabbed her face and kissed her.

Wendla pulled away. "Melchi?" she whispered.

"Yes?" Melchior held her face in his hands.

"I want to see her."

Melchior's expression changed. "Okay."

After dark, he and Wendla set out to their tree. Wendla clutched his hand and in the other hand, she carried a rose. They both stopped when they came to the grave. Wendla set the rose on the grave. "Okay, my sweet Mina. I love you." She kissed her fingers and touched the still fresh soil. She stood up and let Melchior go in front of her.

He set down his rose. "I love you, baby girl." When he stood up, they both collapsed in each other's arms and sobbed. They sank to the ground and leaned against the tree, just like the day they talked.

"We've been through a lot, haven't we?"

Melchior zoned out. "Yes, we have."

Wendla wiped the last of her tears. "Are you sure you still love me?" she smiled.

Melchior smiled and rolled his eyes."Now, that's a dumb question. The real question is, are you sick of me yet?" He took her hand he was holding and kissed her fingers.

She giggled. "Not yet." They both laughed. "What do you picture her like? Like what she would've looked like as a teenager?"

Melchior thought for a moment. "I see your face, but more curly hair like mine. I see her being small like you. What do you see?"

"I see her like that, too. I see her being small like me, and having some of my features, but definitely your eyes. And I think of her personality being like yours. Funny, smart, strong headed, and has a big heart."

Then they sighed and Wendla leaned her head on his shoulders. They sat there all night.

****Aww. I'm sorry I had to kill Mina. I truly am! But this is "Sorrow's New Dance" so… REVIEW and keep reading, my friend!****


	5. Chapter 5

****Don't, hate me, but this is super short! But I really wanted to add Ilse so, here she is:****

Ilse slowly walked down the street towards the pub. She didn't need a drink, she just needed a place to sit and think. She felt so hollow, without Moritz. Like when he died he took everything. Her lungs were missing because she couldn't breathe without him. He took her thoughts about anything else but the ones about him. And most of all, her heart ached because she was in love with him, but she never told him. She remembered that night. The night she promised not to think about. But who would care if she started to bawl her eyes out? It's four in the morning. Everyone there is drunk and won't remember. She closed her eyes and tried to picture everything. How she was so happy to see the quirky and awkward boy. She found those things attractive in him. She remembered how they talked about playing pirates and how much she wanted him to come with her. And she remembered leaving him, coming into her apartment, angry that he blew her off. Making it worse for him and so he shot himself. She could have prevented it if she had stayed three minutes longer.

She threw her glass on the ground. The bartender looked at her angrily. "I'll pay for that," she said. She pulled the hair out of her face and left ten Euros on the counter.

She walked into her apartment door and saw Wendla writing in a diary. "Wendla?" she cried. Wendla looked up from the book she was reading and saw the tear-stained face in front of her. "Oh, Ilse!" Ilse ran to Wendla, and she just lay in her arms while Wendla comforted her. "Why did Moritz do it?" She cried. Wendla patted her hair. "I don't know. But God sure knows we wish he hadn't."

Finally, the tears were gone. Ilse walked into her room. She opened her diary and wrote furiously. She wrote him a letter, begging him to let her go. That night, she snuck out, took two roses, and went to her hometown graveyard. She set Moritz letter on the bottom of the tombstone, and put a rock on top of it to keep it there. Tears came back as she put one of the roses on his grave. Then she stopped by the tree where Mina was. There was no tombstone for the child, but there was a candle and a couple of dead roses there that Wendla and Melchior left. She threw the dead ones away and put her new rose next to the candle. She made her way back home, numb and broken, and fell asleep in her bed.

****When I watched this play for the first time, I always thought "Wow, Ilse is a good singer, but GET BACK TO MELCHIOR AND WENDLA!" But after reading some Moritz/Ilse fanfictions, and watching the play again, I realized Ilse is really cool. And I felt sorry for her. So I want to bring her in the story. I hope you liked it! REVIEW please! I love to hear what you gotta say!****


	6. Chapter 6

****I don't really have anything to write up here, so I think you should get right to the point. The story.****

Melchior sat down by the river. It was a lovely Friday afternoon, first day of June, and he and Wendla decided to get out of the house and find some place to sit.

Melchior got out his pencil and notebook, and started to sketch Wendla in the water. He hadn't drawn much since he left home, but he had drawn pictures of Wendla, when she was doing something cute, and of what he thought Mina would look like.

"Don't you think this will make up for our tree back in Wernigerode?" Wendla asked with her dress lifted up and her feet in the water. "It's perfect," he said finishing her eyes. Wendla giggled and ran to him, laying her head in his lap. She looked at his drawing and smiled. Then she came up and kissed him on his lips.

He couldn't focus. He looked in her eyes. They were smiling but somehow, if you looked deep enough, you still could see the sadness behind her eye lids.

"Wendla, I know I've said this a lot, but I'll never say it enough. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slept with you. I should've listened to you when you said no. I shouldn't have done that to you. I took everything away from you just to pleasure myself. It was wrong." Wendla sat up. She wanted to tell him its okay and that she was happy but she wasn't. She loved him, but she wished this had never happened. She just nodded. "Say something," he said watching her face. "I love you. You need to understand how much I love. But to be honest, I wish this had never happened. I'm happy when I'm with you here but, I wish I could be home. With my mom. And we could grow up, and finish school. Then we could have done it the right way. Get married, then have the child. But that one night ruined my entire life, the life that I planned for myself. But now, I'm just living in consequence of what we did. I'm sorry. I'm content with this life because you're in it, but if we would've waited, we would be happy. I do love you, though." Melchior nodded and helped Wendla up. "Let's go," he said and they walked home.

Wendla could feel the tension between them as she held his hand. She could see how distant Melchior was. Before walking upstairs, she stopped him. "I love you," she whispered. Melchior looked away. "Melchi, I'm happy! I am!" Wendla kissed him, him barely kissing back. She pulled away and looked at him. He gave her a small smile and continued up the stairs.

The next morning, things were still distant. Wendla decided to go out with Ilse and pick up some groceries. "Bye Melchi." Wendla said and kissed him on the lips. Then they were gone. Melchior quickly grabbed a bag and packed his clothes. He also took the photograph of Wendla that was next to her grave stone. He left the letter and walked out.

Wendla and Ilse got back to the apartment. "Melchior? We're back." Wendla looked around for him, and then she found his letter:

_Wendla,_

_I know I said I wouldn't go, but I think we should start over with other people. I've decided to leave. I'm going to America on a boat today at noon. I'm going to work at a factory somewhere. You need to move on and try to find someone to be happy with. And maybe one day we'll cross paths again. I'll always love you. Forgive me._

_Melchior._

It was 11:55. The dock was around the corner. Wendla had five minutes to make it to the dock. He is such an idiot! She sprinted out the door and ran through the busy traffic, luckily unscathed. She reached the dock and spotted Melchior. He was on the ship. She cried out to him, but he was too far. She ran back to the ticket booth.

"Where did that ship go?" She asked.

"It'll dock in Long Island," the greasy man in the booth scratched his face.

"When's the next ship for Long Island?"

"Tomorrow at 7AM."

"I need two tickets then."

"That'll be $30."

Wendla got back to the apartment. "Ilse? Are you here?"

"Wendla, I got some bad news. Melchior-" Ilse held up the letter.

"I know. He's gone. Look, I already bought a ticket tomorrow to go find him. I'll be gone maybe two days."

Ilse just nodded. "I know. I already packed your bag."

Wendla kissed her cheek. "Thank you. Now let's go pack yours. You're coming with me.

****Oh why, Melchior! But don't fret, my readers. ILSE AND WENDLA ARE GONNA SAVE THE DAY! Maybe. REVIEW PLEASE and in the words of Jay-Z- (Go) ON TO THE NEXT ONE!****


	7. Chapter 7

****New York baby. Where all the immigrants go. Don't ask me how any of them (Melchi, Wendla, Ilse) have the money to get there, but let's pretend they always have money but never work. I wish that was the case in real life. Anywho, read this chapter****

Wendla and Ilse woke early for their boat ride. It was a foggy and long ride over to Long Island. It took two days. They were crowded on the tiny boat as they waited to reach Long Island. When they arrived, it was about midnight. They jumped off the boat, and headed straight for the bench where they fell asleep.

That next morning, Wendla woke up on the dock. Ilse's head was in her lap. She must've just climbed off the boat and fell asleep on a bench. She pulled out the letter from Melchior. It said he was going to work at a factory. And it was a Monday so it would be the first day. She walked over to the ticket booth.

"Sir, what time is it?" Thank God she had learned English in school. Her accent was thick though.

"It is 7:42, ma'am. Say, you're not from around here, are you?" The old man asked.

"No. I'm from Germany. What time does the factory open?"

"8'o Clock. Germany, aye?"

"Yes. And how many factories are out here, exactly?"

"I would say about… Twenty-five."

Wendla rolled her eyes. "Thanks." She walked over to Ilse. "So I guess we have a long day ahead of us. There are about twenty-five factories. He has been here an extra day so I assume he has gotten a job."

Ilse rubbed her eyes and yawned. "We need to find a place to stay. Like a motel or something." She looked around and saw a rusty, blue apartment building. "There!"

Wendla looked at the building. "Well, it's probably cheap. Here we go." They walked into the building and set their stuff down. They had booked to stay a week. "Okay, where should we start?"

It was Thursday night. They had been to twenty factories. No Gabor even heard of. Wendla sat on the bed. She was hungry and sleep deprived.

Ilse looked up from her book and grabbed her shoulder. "Hey, let's take a break and go out tonight! I mean, we are in America! The great New York City! Let's go get a drink. I packed your pretty blue dress!"

Wendla had to giggle at her friend's enthusiasm. "Sure! Why not?"

They both got dressed up and walked to the nearest bar. Wendla's dark hair was up in a bun with little gold pins. Ilse let her long hair down and wore a small, red dress. They walked through the door, smoke going straight into their lungs. The bar was filled with sailors and other women. This was the closest to their hotel, and only place that they knew was a bar. They took a seat on a stool next to a group of sailors.  
"Well, hello there. My name is David. Where did you ladies come from?" One blonde sailor asked, winking at Ilse.

"Oh, we're from Germany. Ever been?" Ilse gave her flirtatious smirk.

Wendla giggled and looked away. She took sips of the drink Ilse ordered for her, not really liking the taste. Ilse was good at flirting with boys. She always had been. Wendla just felt awkward around Melchior during those first few conversations. But now, being with him was as easy as breathing. Was she still with him?

A tall dark haired man flashed before her eyes.

"Hello. Why so shy?" The sailor asked, twirling her piece of hair. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. Very drunk.

"Oh, I'm not very talkative, I guess you can say." Wendla tried to turn around, but he pulled her shoulder back.

"My name is Chris. Where are you from?" his words were slurred.

"I'm from Germany. My name is Wendla. Ilse and I came together." She gulped.

"So I see. A tourist."

"I guess you can say that." Wendla looked down at her shoes, away from his gaze.

Chris giggled. "Listen, you're from Germany. You want to know about the American culture, right? So, why don't we go back around this corner and we can talk about. . . things." He moved his hands toward her waist.

Wendla tensed up. "Oh, no thank you. I better get going. Ilse? I'm going home. Are you going to be okay?" Wendla looked at her friend. She was making out with sailor David. "Ilse!" Wendla cried.

Ilse pulled away as the sailor moved down to her neck. "Just having the great American experience!" Then she brought his lips back to hers.

"Great," she whispered, "Well, Chris, it's been swell but, I better get going. Bye." Wendla nearly sprinted out the door to the ally. Chris took another shot and followed her.

"Hey, wait a minute. I'm a sailor and I've been far from home for some time. Maybe you could, lend me a favor." He pushed her against the wall and kissed her.

"Get off of me!" she cried, pushing him away with all her strength.

"Turn around!" he screamed. He pushed her head into the wall and unzipped her dress. Then he forcefully moved her back to the front and pulled the dress all the way off of her.

"No! Stop! Please!" Wendla cried. The drunk man slapped her across the face. Then he continued his work. He grabbed her breast and squeezed them. Wendla made a whimpering sound from the pain. She prayed that someone would find her.-

Across the street, he heard the screaming. Melchior crossed the road and found a drunk sailor on top of a girl. The girl was screaming bloody murder. Melchior pulled the drunk off of his prey and punched him in the face. The two fought, both getting a good sock from the other. Finally, the drunk fell down. Breathing hard, he turned around to see the victim. Pain and shock flashed on his face.

"Wendla?" Melchior grabbed the girls hand.

Wendla let a few tears fall. She grabbed her dress and put it on. After she was zipped, she hugged him. "Oh, Melchior! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"You're bleeding." He pulled out a rag and dotted her wound, not saying a word. Finally he gulped down his pride. "Did he?" Melchior asked.

"No, he didn't. But he was about to. I hate it here. Let's go home_._"

Melchior's heart was ripping at the seams, knowing what he had to do, and shook his head. "What makes you think I'm going? I meant what I said. It's time for both of us to move on. It's over."

Wendla shook her head. "Melchi, come home. I told you, I am happy! I love you." She reached out for him

Melchior pushed her away. "No. You and Ilse go home."

Wendla became infuriated. "No!"

Melchior grabbed her wrist. "Did you ever think that I wasn't happy? I'm not in love with you anymore. I just waited for you to give me a reason to go." That one hurt him as much as it hurt her. But luckily, he was a good liar. He let go of her.

"No! You love me and I love you! You can't walk away from that!"

Melchior sighed, knowing exactly what to say that would do the job. He turned around and faced the streets, "Watch me."

Wendla looked pained. "Then why did you stop him from doing that to me. You should have just let that happened. You're treating me like shit anyway!" She waited for a response.

Melchior just kept walking, biting his tongue. Forcing himself to not look back at the woman he was walking away from.

"Go to Hell!" she screamed and made her way to the apartment. She collapsed on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

****Never trust sailors named Chris. It's always bad news… Am I the only one who kind of hates Melchior right now? Yeah, I knew ya'll hate him right now, too. And while I was "editing" this before I put it online, I almost wrote that while Wendla almost got raped, that she willingly did it, because she did it all the time. You see, I've been reading some Les Mis Eponine/Enjolras stuff, which I think it's a crazy yet amazing idea, and I can't stop reading them. So I was like "Woah, this is Wendla who didn't even know what sex was, not Eponine who had sex with a man every night for money…" Maybe I'll do a Les Mis fanfiction…. Anyway, REVIEW please. I need some input****


	8. Chapter 8

****Welcome back. Okay. I don't want to sound rude, but I don't know if anybody is liking the story. Yes, I know there will be lolly-gaggers who just are in the mood for some Spring Awakening (trust me, I know how you feel) but if you are truly reading this, I would appreciate it if you follow the story. So then I know I actually have people writing to. Releases breath that I was holding Now on to the story. Let's hope Melchior comes to his senses….****

Ilse had passed out behind the bar last night. Typical. That always happened. She woke up with a headache and was freezing. Ilse roamed around the city until she got to her apartment. She walked in the door and saw Wendla. Her hair looked like a spider web and she had circles under her eyes. She was wearing the same thing from last night, and her suitcase was packed. "Wendla, are you okay?"

"No." she said, pulling at the little snags at her dress. She told Ilse about everything that happened.

"Oh, Wendla! I'm so sorry! I'm a horrible person. I should have kept an eye on you. And what a son of a bitch! Melchior said that? Something's up."

"Nothing's up Ilse. It's over. I'm going home. You can stay a couple of days if you like. I just have to get out of this city."

"Oh, Wendla, I can go with you. If you want." Ilse felt the butterflies dissolve.

"No. Stay and enjoy yourself. It's not every day you're in New York. But don't get into any trouble, okay?" She looked at the time. "I have to go. Be careful."

Ilse hugged her friend. "You too."

"Oh, and Melchior is working at the factory right next to the dock, so before you leave, give this to him. Just drop it off and say it's for him."

Ilse nodded and watched her friend leave.

Wendla got on the boat. She couldn't help the tears that fell down her face, and she didn't care who saw. Finally, she got out one of her favorite books, Pride and Prejudice. It was one of her Grandmother's favorite books. The children at school would make fun of Wendla for reading old literature, but she liked the idea of one conversation and then they were in love. Getting pregnant wasn't the reason they fell in love. Stupid nineteenth century literature.

"So, Jane Austen?"

Wendla looked up from her book to see a blonde American watching her. He had blue eyes, strong bone structure, and one dimple on his right cheek. "Yes, it is. I'm one of those classic fans." She smiled at the boy.

"I am also," he laughed, but looked puzzled. "What's the name of the book? Never seen that one before."

Wendla laughed. "Oh! It's Pride and Prejudice, but it's translated in German."

The boy laughed. "That's why it was so hard to read!" He reached out his hand, "I'm ."

She reached hers out and shook his hand. "Wendla."

"Ah! You're from Germany! You going back home?"

"Yeah. Are you going there for the summer?"

"All by myself. And I don't even know German!"

Wendla laughed. "I can teach you some basics, but you have to teach me something in return."

The boy raised his eyebrow. "Really? What can I offer you?"

She pointed at his guitar case.

He nodded his head. "Sounds like a deal."

Ilse spent the rest of the week going to bars and meeting artist. Then the day came when she had to leave. She woke up early and went to the factory that Melchior worked at. She asked the front desk man for Melchior Gabor.

"Ilse, what are you doing here? Wendla left three days ago." Melchior wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I stayed behind. She wants me to give you this," she handed him the letter. "Don't rip it up. The least you can do is read it."

"I'll read it. Are you leaving today?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Goodbye Ilse, safe travels."

She just nodded. "By the way, I don't know what the hell made you move to America and hurt the girl you love, but it is the most absurd thing I've ever seen. If it's because you don't think she's happy, you're wrong. She just started getting happier again since Mina. Now you're just making her depressed again. And I thought you were happy too." Ilse walked out.

She got to the dock early. She then got on her ship and headed home.

****Yeah Ilse! You tell him. And, who is this boy Wendla is talking to? Could they become a #gasp# couple? I would also like to state that everyone is original Broadway cast Lea Michele is Wendla (and the best in my opinion), Jonathon Groff is Melchior (Yes he's gay, when he's Melchior, he seems straight no matter what that blogger guy said about him on Glee) and And Lauren Pritchard is Ilse (BEST VOICE EVER). Oh and the cute and quirky John Gallagher Jr. is Moritz (I think he is absolutely adorable!) And I decided that the "American Boy" is based off of Hunter Parrish, my 2****nd**** favorite Melchior, and he is a cutie. Everybody else Like Paul the Doctor is just made up. REVIEW and find out what happens next!****


	9. Chapter 9

****Hello again. I want to tell you, that Wernigerode is the gang's hometown. I guess I didn't do my research so I just picked a small town outside of Berlin (Ilse lives in Berlin). Enjoy and REVIEW!****

Wendla held the guitar under her arms while Robert placed her fingers on the right strings.

"Okay. Strum it."

She brushed her fingers across the strings.

"That's so cool. I've never played a string instrument before. I play piano, but so does every girl in Europe."

Robert smiled. "Okay my turn. How do you say 'Nice to meet you'?"

"Nizza, zum Sie zu treffen."

Robert looked dumbfounded. "Well, I guess I won't be friendly to people."

Wendla laughed. She had been laughing the whole ride, when she wasn't sleeping. Robert was fun, and helped her get her mind off of Melchior. The boat shook to a stop. She almost fell forward, but Robert caught her. She blushed.

"Robert, welcome to Germany!"

Robert got his stuff together. "Thanks. Do you think you could help me get to my school?"

"Sure, I don't have any plans. But let's get something to eat. I'll pay."

She and Robert went to a restaurant across the street from where she lived. They ate and talked about the differences between America and Germany, and how hard the languages were. Robert was very bright, and funny. So funny, she almost spewed her drink twice!

After catching her breath and paying the bill they walked outside. "So, where is your school?"

He pulled out a piece of paper. "In, uh, I can't pronounce this."

"Here, let me see." She giggled and took the paper. She froze when she saw the word Wernigerode. Wendla stepped back. "I can't." She gulped. Her face turned pale.

"Wendla, what's wrong?" Robert was confused.

"I just can't. It's not far away, but you'll have to get a ride. Goodbye, Robert." She turned and walked towards her apartment. Of course. He had to go to her home town. She turned around to face him. "Robert?"

"Yes?"

"Don't mention my name, ever, when you're there. Do you understand?"

"Why? What happened?"

She sighed. "That's not important. Do you promise?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it is. Are you a criminal?"

"No!" she sighed. She might as well. "Okay, let's make this short. I was in love. I had sex. I got pregnant, and my mom was upset that I broke my values to God. She took me to an abortion office, I didn't know what was going on. I somehow escaped. The doctor told my mom that I died. They had a funeral, saying I died of anemia. My boyfriend-" she winced, "at the time- didn't know I had died. He was going to meet me at the grave yard. He saw my tombstone, and he jumped to conclusions and tried to commit suicide. I saved him. We moved into my friend house. I gave birth to my daughter. Her lungs didn't develop so she died. And finally, my boyfriend dumped me in New York." She sighed, her tongue dried out.

Robert blinked a couple of times. "So, everyone thinks you're dead?"

She nodded. "Nobody can know I'm alive." She hadn't realized her emotions weren't in check, and tears fell down her cheeks.

Robert reached out and wiped a tear. "I promise I won't tell. So, I guess this is goodbye."

Wendla got the courage and kissed him. She wasn't in love with him like she was with Melchior, but she did like him. Of course he had to go to her God damn town… "You're sweet. I wish this could've worked."

Robert licked his lips, clinging on to the taste. He hadn't realized how much he liked her until she kissed him. "No. It can! I can meet you here in Berlin."

Wendla laughed and sighed. "You're very kind, but it would be too hard. I just got out of a relationship and what if you let it slip? What would happen? The townspeople would brake down my door looking for the whore who is still alive. It would be too complicated. I have a friend, her name is Thea. She-she was my best friend. She's a beautiful girl. I think you would like her a lot."

She stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye." Then she turned back around and made her way to her apartment.

Melchior slumped out of the factory. He was exhausted. He just wanted to get home. He walked the streets, and passed the bar where he saw Wendla. He remembered how surprised and hurt he was to see her. She was almost raped and he dumped her. He knew she took it hard by the sound of her voice and he hated himself. He sat down on his bed and took off his shoes. He felt the letter, burning a hole in his pocket. He pulled it out.

Melchior,

I don't understand what you are doing, if I am somehow going to get happier. I can't be happy without you. You are the only person who understands what I'm feeling because of loosing Mina. But, I will let you do what you want. You can stay and find someone better and be happy. I'm sorry you've been so miserable. So, I think you should just try to forget me. Forget what we did, what happened in Wernigerode, and the loss of our child. Forget it all and move on, just like you said. I don't think I can. I feel myself slipping away into the same state of mind Moritz had. But I know you don't care about what will happen to me anymore, or how I feel. So goodbye. I'll always love you, even if it isn't returned.

Wendla

Melchior covered his face. She didn't understand what he was trying to do. He was helping her.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he is trying to be a man, when he is still a child. Maybe what he thought was best for Wendla was the complete opposite. Maybe what was best for Wendla was what was best for him. What's best for him is being with her. What was he doing? He had to go.

****That's more like it, Melchior. I don't hate you anymore. But get to Wendla and fix it! NOW!**** REVIEW**** please! :) ****


	10. Chapter 10

****Skip this over and continue reading. It speaks for itself.****

Ilse arrived back in Germany. She came into her apartment. "Wendla?'

"Hey, how was your trip back?"

Ilse could see how much she was faking her enthusiasm. Her eyes were red and puffy. "It was good. How 'bout you? Hanging in there?"

Wendla shook her head. "I'm trying," she said, exhaling a sob. "I don't want to be the depressed one again. I was just feeling happy, but now… I'm sorry. I met a guy on the boat, but he was going to Wernigerode. He asked why I was spooked and I told him everything. He promised not to tell, but I really wanted to maybe move on or actually date someone. And then I realized how much I miss Melchior."

Ilse shushed her. "I know how hard this is for you. And I'm here for you."

For the next couple of days, it was just them. They tried to get out of the apartment and enjoy the summer. They wanted to act as though nothing was wrong, like normal, happy people. And it worked. Wendla was content for a while, but then it got worse. She couldn't take it. She hated herself for doing this to Ilse, but she had no other way to get out. She was going use her tombstone. She was going to see her child.

Melchior got off the ship. He pushed through the people and ran to the apartment. He walked through the door.

"Melchior?" Ilse was sitting on the couch, reading.

"Where is she?" He set his bag down, in a frenzy.

"Haven't you hurt her enough? Ilse crossed her arms.

"I came back to apologize. I made a mistake."

"She said she wanted to visit some river, I don't really know-"

He was out the door. He ran through the streets to their spot. The rain was pouring, but he hadn't really noticed. He saw Wendla, sitting by the river, the rain falling hard on her skin. The river was rushing hard. She was sobbing. Then she stood up and took off her shoes, about to jump in.

"Wendla!" He took two long strides and grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him, furious. "What am I doing? What are you doing here? Why aren't you back in America? Moving on like you said we should. You don't love me."

"I made a huge mistake. I can explain."

She crossed her arms.

Melchior took a deep breath and began his speech. "I thought that if I left, you would be happy. But I realize it was the worst thing I could do. And everything I said behind that bar were lies. I am only happy with you. We are only happy together! I was such an idiot! Wendla, please forgive me. I promise I won't leave, ever."

Wendla just nodded. He moved towards her, as if to embrace her. She placed her hand on his chest, thinking. She looked into his eyes. "If you come any closer, I'm not letting you go. I won't put up with the 'leaving because it's the best' bullshit. It's never or forever." He paused. She waited, knowing that he was thinking about leaving again, so she started walking away.

Melchior grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "I love you," he cried and lifted her up and kissed her.

There was a spark. They had both felt something before but this time, nothing was held back. All the love that had been lingering in each other's chest came out.

"Are you sure, Wendla?" Melchior asked. He wanted to ask before every time. He didn't want to force her.

Wendla smirked a little. "Are you kidding?" she said and then wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted Melchior to never leave. She kissed his neck, his ear, up his arm. She reached for the buttons of his shirt and tried to undo them, but her fingers were so numb. Finally the soaked shirt was off and she kissed him again. She untied the top of her dress then slid it off. Melchior pushed her down to the soft grass and placed his body on top of hers. He took off Wendla's bra and explored. Wendla felt warm, though his fingertips were wet and cold. She felt goose bumps every time he kissed her. Melchior kissed his way down to her waist.

"Wendla?" Melchior asked

"Just do it!" Wendla cried. She couldn't wait much longer. Melchior could feel their bodies morph into one. He felt love. He should have never left.

****TA-DA! I knew Melchi would come back! And then, they had make-up sex. It was kinda awkward to write. REVIEW and tell me what you think about Melchior and his dumb idea to leave****


	11. Chapter 11

****Now that the couple is back together, I am gonna write more about Ilse, try to tie what I want together. So get to it! (And don't worry, there will always be some Melchior/Wendla stuff. What is their couple name anyway? "Mendla? Welchior? Welchior makes me laugh.)****

Everything was back to normal. Wendla and Melchior were a happy couple and Ilse was still in love with someone who is dead. But then she had a dream.

She dreamed she was walking home from school, but she was older. Moritz came up behind her and held her hand. "Moritz?"

Moritz kissed her lips. "Ilse, I read your letter and I'm flattered that you're in love with me. I wish I would've known before that night, because I was in love with you, too. But we can't change my mistake. I promise I'll watch over you, but I want you to move on. Find someone and be happy. Goodbye Ilse." And he kissed her cheek.

His hand dissolved and in morphed a new hand. She looked at his face. It was Paul.

Ilse woke up that next morning. She was happy. Moritz was giving her permission. She would always love him, but she was glad. She wanted to fall in love with someone, and both of them would know about the other's feelings. She called Paul.

"Hey. I wanted to know if you wanted to get some lunch?"

"Sure. I'll meet you in town."

They met up and ate lunch.

Paul took a sip of his drink. "How's Melchior and Wendla?"

Ilse rubs her forehead. "Long story short- break up, make up. But they are doing okay. They still feel empty without the baby, but they seem happy."

"Good." Paul fumbled with the silverware. He couldn't make contact with her. He knew she didn't love him, and she never did.

"Paul, I know it's awkward. We had a pretty rough break up back then. But I know it was for the best. I was holding you back. I mean, look at you now. A certified doctor." She smiled.

"Well, I loved you even though you held me back, being well aware of it. But I missed you." Paul felt himself about to spill his feelings all over the table so he tried to make the afternoon end faster. "So, why did you want to get together?"

Ilse bit her lip. "I lost someone, someone who I was in love with before I met you. His name was Moritz. But he took his own life. I never really dealt with it until recently. So I went back and thought of any time I was happy after his death, and it was with you. When I first met you while I was with the artist colony, and I had that horrible flu. You were the only artist who had any idea what to do. Then you were so nice and sweet, and everything worked out. Even though we fought a lot, I still loved you. I felt whole. Anyway, I had a dream and Moritz said to let go, then I was looking at a man. Paul, it was you. I know it's a lot to ask, but, I want to try this again, us."

Paul was silent for a while. Ilse was worried he had already moved on.

Without saying a word, he looked into her eyes and smiled. Then he grabbed her hand, and kissed it. "Let's go."

They paid the bill and walked out hand in hand. It was raining, much like the earlier this week so they ran across the road to the other side. Paul kept pulling her along when she stopped. He looked at her. Then she grabbed his neck for a kiss in the rain.

****Aww, the typical Hollywood kiss in the rain. Ilse's in love with Doctor Paul! (I named him Paul because I am IN LOVE with the Beatles) REVIEW please. If you do, My fanfiction writer's depression will be cured. (Is it that bad of a story?) Well I wrote most of this in advance so I'M NOT GIVING UP!****


	12. Chapter 12

****This next chapter, I do believe in the religious views, BUT, I'm not forcing anyone into becoming a Christian. It's your choice if you agree or not. And I also decided to put it in here because Christianity is a part of their back story. I just wanted to make that clear. Enjoy and REVIEW****

Everything was finally perfect. She loved him, he loved her. Wendla knew he was upset that he left, but she tried to tell him to forget the whole thing happened. They were back in love.

Wendla decided to start reading the Bible again. Something in the pit of her stomach knew that there was a God, and though she had been put through many horrible things, it was all a part of His plan. She never had a great relationship with Him, but that was because she was young and her faith hadn't been put to the test. But now, she had been put through many tests. First of all, she got pregnant, which was disobeying what He said. But He planned that for her. He also planned the death of her child. He planned for her to be completely broken and have resent towards Him, knowing that she will come back to Him. And her relationship with Him would be greater than it ever was. And it was. She prayed every night, thanking Him that she was actually alive, for He did save her from the abortion office. She caught herself asking questions in her mind and somehow, getting a response. She was completely saved again.

She knew this day was coming, but it was important to her. She leaned against Melchior's chest while he rocked them back and forth with her in his lap. Wendla started humming and he bent down and kissed her shoulder.

"Melchi?"

"Yes, my love?"

Wendla hesitated. "Do you- Do you believe in God?"

Melchior sat still and thought for a moment. "I don't know. I didn't, when we were kids, I thought everything the Pastor said was a joke. But now, I don't know. Do you?"

Wendla got up from his lap, turned around, and faced him. "Yes. I do. We had to go to church when we were younger, but it wasn't really, filling. Then everything happened and I hated God. I hated Him for what he did to us, taking our child, make me suicidal. I needed Him the most after Mina's death. What I didn't realize, was that He was there. He was listening the whole time. Comforting me when I knew I usually would have been crying. He was just waiting for me to call out to Him. So I started reading the Bible again, and I realized how blind I was. I have been praying more, and have felt happier, knowing He's there. Look, I'm not forcing you to read the Bible, but it is important to me. And I have been praying for you, because I love you." Wendla moved forward and kissed his forehead.

Melchior nodded. "Thank you. And I'm glad that you are happier. I just don't know if I am ready. I love you."

Wendla smiled. She knew he took it into consideration, and that one day, he'll find Him. She bent over a kissed his lips. She pulled out her book and started where she left off. She hasn't read it since the day on the boat.

Melchior got up and went over to his desk. He pulled out his notepad and drew Wendla reading her book. He would start to draw her just right, then she would move.

"Wendla, would you stop moving? I'm trying to get this right!" he laughed and erased again.

Wendla looked up from her book. "Well, if I knew you were drawing I would've." She jumped up and came by his side, her head resting on his shoulder as he sat at his desk. "You have always been a good artist."

"Wendla, I've only shown you a couple of pictures."

"Yeah, but I can tell from that. And I did read your journal, and there were those drawings of…. Sexual things… There weren't gorgeous, but they were-" she thought of a word, "realistic." She kissed his cheek.

Melchior blushed and put his hands in his face. "I can't believe you saw those…"

"Well, I did. You were such a pervert." She turned his chair around and straddled her legs around him.

"Were? What do you mean were?" He leaned forward and kissed her neck.

Wendla had a ticklish feeling and giggled. "Good point." She brought his face up to his and kissed him passionately, their bodies pressing closer together.

Melchior rose and brought them to the bed. They were kissing for a while then Melchior pulled away.

"I thought you are now a Christian?"

"I am. Some people interpret the Bible saying you have to wait till you're married, which that is true. But I think it says only have sex with one person. And I don't think I'm going to have sex with anyone else." The she kissed him again.

****Aww. How sweet. That's all I got. Oh, I also didn't know if it should be called a Pastor or what so I went with Pastor…REVIEW****


	13. Chapter 13

****This is the product of when you have writer's block, but you really need to write and then something BRILLIANT HAPPENS IN YOUR MIND! So it's not a great chapter, but it always seems that bad things happen to the women. So I thought, "Let's give something to Melchior" so this is what I came up with. And then the bomb exploded into my head and a 600 word chapter became a 1,000+ word chapter. Anyway, Read and REVIEW!****

Melchior was an idiot. How could he have left this beautiful woman for one second? But he was glad he was back. He woke up from a nice dream at about 3 in the morning. He looked over at Wendla, his Wendla. She was beautiful. The look of worry that crossed her face from time to time and smoothed away, and she looked peaceful. He would've watched her all night. Then the nausea hit.

He sprinted to the bathroom and vomited. Trying not to wake Wendla, he tried to shut the door with his foot, his head still over the bowl, but he ended up slamming it.

Wendla sat straight up. She had thought someone had broken into their apartment and Melchior wasn't next to her. Then she heard a loud gagging sound coming from the bathroom. She got up and knocked on the door. "Melchi? Are you alright?"

"Don't come in here! I'm fine! Just a stomach-" he didn't finish his sentence.

"Oh please! I don't know how many times you held my hair for me when I was pregnant. I'm coming in." She turned the door knob and saw Melchior glistening with sweat and lying on the cold floor. "Oh, Melchi!" she rushed to his side and felt his forehead. He had a huge fever. Wendla never had a problem with vomit, though the smell wasn't great. Her mother, on the other hand, couldn't bare it. She had always called in her husband when Wendla or her sister was sick. Once, Wendla was taking care of her nephew, and he ended up getting a stomach bug. It was Wendla who had taken care of him.

"Hang on." She said and ran and got a cold wash cloth and a cup of water. She came back and kneeled beside him. Melchior, once again, clutched on to the seat and heaved. Wendla rubbed her hand across his back. Finally, there was nothing left in his system to purge. Wendla pulled Melchior up and put him in his bed. She handed him the glass of water and rested the cold wash cloth on his forehead. Melchior grabbed her hand "Thank you."

"Any time, my love." And she bent down to kiss his cheek.

Melchior patted the empty space on the bed beside him.

Wendla shook her head. "Oh no. You are already warm, I don't want to give you anymore body heat."

Melchior whimpered. "But I feel cold." He said frowning at her.

With a smirk, Wendla stood and tucked the blanket around him till he looked like he was inside a cocoon. "Let me know if you need another blanket." She grinned, giving him a wink.

Melchior laughed. "You're very smart, but don't make me get out of this bed." He started to move.

"No! You stay! You've slept in a bed before without me; I don't think you'll die if you do it again."

"But that was before I was in love! I need you." He managed to get his arms out and he motioned for her to come.

Wendla sighed. "Fine, but no touching." She placed herself on the very edge of the bed. She could feel Melchior slowly moving towards her, every few minutes. Finally he was right behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Melchi," she said in a disapproving tone.

"I can't help it. It's like I'm drawn to you." He whispered in her ear then nipped at the cartilage.

"Um, we aren't doing anything like that till I know you won't throw-up all over me."

Melchior sighed and kissed her shoulder. "Fine, I'll just sleep." And he was out like a light.

The sun shined through their tiny window, waking Wendla from her dream. She sighed just laying there. Then she slowly pulled off Melchior's arms that were firmly around her waist, and made her way to the window. She used to sit here after the baby died, but she never really looked out the window. She was always zoned out. But now, she realized how pretty of a sight it was. People moving along the busy street, a group of tree's and a river lay in the outskirts of the town. She wished she was artistic enough to paint it. Melchior probably could, he was very artistic. She leaned her head against the warm glass, closing her eyes. Just taking a moment.

Melchior reached out for Wendla, realizing he was alone. His eyes popped open and he saw her, sitting at the window. She looked beautiful. Though he always thought her hair to be dark, he could see the tiniest hints of auburn when it hit the sun. Slowly he got out of bed and got his notebook. It was the perfect picture, waiting to be sketched. He traced out everything quietly, pretending he was asleep. Then he sneezed.

Wendla whipped her head around.

"Now, if you would wait a couple more seconds, I can finish this early sketch." He then began to furiously finish the drawing.

Wendla giggled. "I thought you were asleep?"

"I was, then I woke up, then I just _had_ to draw this. And… There! You're free to move."

Wendla smiled again and came over to him, giving him a quick kiss. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Well, we can start by getting breakfast."

"Sounds good. How are you feeling?" She put the back of her hand to his forehead.

"Much better. It must've been a something I ate."

"Okay. Well, I'm going to get dressed." She gave him a quick kiss and went to the bathroom. Melchior got up and stretched looking out the window. He noticed an older woman crossing the street. Her face was very familiar. Then he gasped. "Wendla! Come Quickly!"

Wendla scurried out of the bathroom.

"It's your mother."

"What?" Wendla pressed her face up against the window. "Mama?" she cried softly. She watched her until her mother got into a carriage, heading back towards Wernigerode. Wendla pressed her trembling hand against the window. Tears fell down her cheeks. She looked up at Melchior, and then collapsed into him. He just sat there rocking her back and forth as she cried.

"I wish I could just, talk to her, you know? Tell her how angry I am with her. And how much I miss her." She sniffled.

"I know. I'm so sorry it has to be this way." He pressed his lips on the top of her head.

Wendla pulled away and wiped her tears. "No. It is what it is. And under these circumstances, I'm alive and with you." She leaned forward giving him a slow, passionate kiss. Melchior's hands found her waist, as she clenched on to his neck. Still kissing him, she pulled him over to their bed, and he was on top of her. Melchior pulled away. "Did you still want breakfast?" he asked.

Wendla pulled him close, "I can do without." And she kissed him again.

****I'm quite proud of myself. I thought this chapter was going to be awful, but when I dropped the bomb of Wendla's mom (hehe, that rhymed), I was satisfied with it. I hope you were too. I decided the couple needed some cheesy happiness. Also, Melchior is PREGNANT! Just kidding. So, why don't you give me a Review?! And FOLLOW THIS STORY!****


	14. Chapter 14

****I think we could use some Ilse. So here we go. Review please!****

Ilse and Paul were madly in love. After fully letting go of Moritz, she could fully put her life in Paul. She felt happy. He was handsome, and respectful. She never had a guy like that. They always wanted to whore her out. But he had always been kind. He still knew how to paint and they would paint sunsets together. He hadn't changed much, but yet he was different. He was more mature, and so was she. They could sit and talk about things for hours. But the most difference between this time and the last time they were together: there was more passion.

When they first dated, she was so shy and naïve. Their relationship was innocent. He would paint her and that was that. But now, they knew they were in love, and the passion would take over. She felt a buzz flow through her with just one look, just one touch. When she was at his house, she always leaned against him, his arms wrapped around her, just talking. Then she would hate it when he got calls to go to work, but he would eventually come back, and they would sit back down and he would wrap his arms around her.

Ilse and Paul were sitting in his apartment, playing chess. Paul had taught her, and Ilse wasn't very good at it, but she always thought that the next time she played, she would magically get better.

Paul was worried about her. She had always been skin and bone. Her collarbone was protruding and her face was sunken in. He knew she was eating normally, but she still was thin. And she had been coughing, a lot. But this time was worse.

Ilse suddenly stood up, and then bent over. She coughed and coughed. It had never been this bad. Paul got up and rubbed her back, thinking she was chocking, but Ilse couldn't breathe. Splotches of blood appeared on her hands.

"Ilse?!" Paul cried catching her as she passed out. He carried her off to the bed and got a cloth to clean the blood from her hands. Ilse's eyes popped open and she gasped for air.

"Water?" she whispered and Paul brought her a glass.

"Ilse, what is going on? You've been coughing like this for days." He moved some hair out of her face.

"Oh, it's nothing. I've been having this problem for years. It's like a congestion thing. A bunch of mucus. But when I cough there's blood. It's normal now."

"Have you ever seen a doctor about it?"

"No, I ran away from home. My parents didn't care about me. And I'm looking at a doctor!" She joked, trying to ease his concern.

He didn't shake it off. "I don't know what's wrong, but Dr. Eberstark might. He's a lung doctor." Paul pulled Ilse up from the bed and they were off to the hospital.

They ran through numerous tests, and took over an hour. Paul was allowed to be in the room because he was a certified doctor. Then he and Ilse waited in her hospital room.

Dr. Eberstark knocked on the door. "Hello Ilse; Doctor." He shook both of their hands.

Paul's hand was clutched on Ilse like a lifeline. "Well?"

Dr. Eberstark rushed his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you are diagnosed with a disease called Cystic Fibrosis. It is a very, very rare disease and there isn't much known about how to prevent it. I don't think it is contagious." He flipped through his pages.

Ilse's voice was dry and hoarse. "Is there a cure?'

"No, I'm very sorry. Dr. Smidt, may I step outside with you?"

Paul kissed her hand, "I'll be right back."

"Paul, I'm sorry, but this disease causes shorter life span and is fatal."

Paul put his hand over his mouth. "How long?" was all he could say.

"I'll give her to twenty-two? Twenty-three maybe?"

Paul's skin tone was gray. "Thank you."

"I want to give you this; a list of therapy you can do if she starts coughing. Also, you'll need to bring her up here three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. If it gets worse, she will have to check into a clinic." The man tipped his hat and went to his next patient.

He and Ilse checked out of the hospital and returned to his apartment. Paul didn't have the heart to say anything to her. He just kept his eyes on her, knowing their time together was limited, engraving her face into his mind.

Ilse knew things weren't good. She could tell by the way he watched her. When they got back home, Paul hung up his coat and got ready for bed. Ilse looked around at his apartment. She saw everything differently, knowing she didn't have much more time. Everything she saw was more delicate. She met Paul in bed. They faced each other but Paul couldn't look into her eyes. Ilse gently moved his head towards hers. She gave him a sweet kiss. "I love you."

Paul chin trembled. "I love you."

Ilse wiped away one of his tears. "Hey, don't do that. I'm going to be okay." She knew it was a long shot.

Paul pulled her into a close embrace, holding on for dear life, _her_ dear life. Then he pulled her away to look in her eyes. "You will! I swear to you, that I will do everything in my power to keep you alive. We will go to therapy, and if you need it, you will check into a clinic. And we'll get married early! And have children, so you can be a mother. And we will travel, and move to the US and find other doctors who might know more about the disease, and-" Ilse pulled him into another kiss.

"I love you. And I will. I will do everything with you."

Paul paused for a moment. "So, you'll marry me?"

Ilse smiled, "Of course! Yes!"

Paul kissed her with a passionate need. He brushed his fingers over her body. Ilse moved her lips down to his neck.

Out of breath, Paul laughed, "Good, I already bought the ring."

****Aww, happy and sad chapter. I love Paul! And I know that the doctors knowing **_**anything**_** about Cystic Fibrosis or therapy for it is unrealistic, but I want to give them some hope. I actually have been interested in the disease. We did this play at school called "John Lennon and Me" And I was a nurse to a girl who had CF. The play is actually really good, but we made it better by making it a musical with Beatle songs. (My favorite things: Acting, singing, and The Beatles) REVIEW!****


	15. Chapter 15

****Get reading. This chapter is happy. REVIEW****

"What's the news?" Wendla was hanging on to Melchior's hand.

Paul and Ilse sat in front of them. Wendla eyed Ilse. She looked thinner than she usually did. Something was wrong.

"Well, a couple nights ago, I was coughing- you know my cough you were always worried about- anyways, this time was bad. I couldn't breathe, and I was coughing up blood. I passed out. When I woke up, Paul and I went to the hospital and took a bunch of test. They realized that I have been diagnosed with a disease called Cystic Fibrosis. It's passed down through your parents. I've had it for a long time, but my mother never took me to the hospital before I ran away."

Paul took up from where she left off. "It's a disease that causes thick mucus to build up in the lungs and the pancreas and other parts. It blocks some of the breathing passageways. This disease is fatal, and causes short-life expectancy."

Wendla blinked, in a daze. "How long does she have?"

Paul's eyes swelled, "The doctor said till she's about twenty-two." Ilse gave his hand a squeeze.

"So, we've decided to get married this weekend. Then we will live together; go to therapy at the clinic. But we would like to move to America after the wedding, knowing the doctors might have more information about the disease."

They were both silent.

Wendla couldn't help it. Tears spilled over the edge. Ilse couldn't control the tears that built up as she brought Wendla in an embrace. She hadn't cried about her situation, always wanting to look strong for Paul's sake, but seeing her friend upset made her vulnerable.

"I love you. You'll be fine." Wendla whispered then kissed her friend on the cheek.

Ilse pulled away. "Stop!" she cried wiping more tears. "I need you to be happy! I'm getting married! I need help planning it."

Wendla laughed, and sniffled. "Okay! So what do you two want to do?"

Paul shrugged, "We hadn't thought much about it. I want Ilse have a great wedding. My parents have passed on, but maybe hers-"

"Are you kidding? Why would my family come? I was thinking at the courthouse. Get it done. I want to be Mrs. Dr. Schmidt!"

Wendla laughed. "Melchi and I will be your witnesses! Okay, since this isn't the normal, you can get a short dress-but it has to be white!"

Ilse dragged Wendla into her room and looked through her closet.

Melchior chuckled. "Women and weddings."

Paul smiled. "I know. I'm actually surprised. The last woman I was engaged too and a huge wedding planned, then I backed out. But Ilse wants to jump the gun!"

"Well, she is one of a kind. Paul, I'm really sorry about this."

Paul looked up to the young man and patted his back. "Thanks. I'm sorry too- but for her." He sighed.

Melchior ran his hand through his hair. "I never told you how much I appreciated everything you did for Wendla and our baby. You are a great friend for helping us."

"It was my pleasure. I'm sorry Mina didn't survive."

Melchior looked down for a moment. It had been eight months, but it was still a sensitive subject. "It wasn't anyone's fault. Especially not yours."

The girls came back out.

"Where's the dress?" Paul asked.

"You can't see it till the wedding day, mister sneaky pants!" She pulled his jaw towards her and kissed his lips. "Well, we better get going. I'm going to go grab some more clothes. Unless I'm not allowed at your house?"

Paul chuckled. "I don't know. I _guess_ you can come." He pulled her into a kiss.

Ilse smiled. "Well, when I'm married, I'm moving out kiddos. So the place is all yours. See you later!"

Wendla zipped up her light pink dress and then went over and helped Ilse. Today was the day. Ilse wore a short dress that came just above her knees. It was a strapless lace dress that Ilse had gotten from one of the other models when she was working in the artist colony. Her bouquet had small pink flowers that matched Wendla's dress.

"Okay, one more thing." Wendla picked one of the flowers and put it in her pinned up hair. "There! You look gorgeous!" She sighed, wiping more tears. "I can't believe your moving in a week."

"Oh Wendla, I promise to write and keep you updated about my situation. I want to tell you how much I appreciate your friendship. I was so alone when I left home, but you came along and I had a true friend again."

Wendla smiled. "How will I ever repay you for everything? You saved my life, let Melchior and I move in with you, you had to deal with me during my depression."

"You did repay me. With your friendship." Tears brimmed over both of the girls eyes.

Wendla wiped the brides tears. "Stop! Now go get married!"

Ilse looked at herself in the mirror. For the first time in her life, she actually felt beautiful. Time flew by and then she was standing face to face with Paul. They said their vows and they were married. It was simple, but it was perfect.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Paul gave her a bright smile, then Ilse began to cough. "Ilse?"

Through coughs she said, "Kiss me first." And her lips were on his. As soon they were off, she coughed for a little bit, then stopped. "hmm, maybe that's the cure!"

Paul smiled, "I'll gladly give you treatment." And he kissed his wife.

They ran out of the church. They said their goodbye's and were on their way to the honeymoon.

Melchior took of his shoes. Wendla walked over, pulled him by the tie, and gave him a kiss. Then she loosened it for him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm just thinking."

She smiled. "What about?"

He giggled, "Nothing of your concern. It's manly stuff."

She gave a snort, "I'm sure. You're very manly." She started to walk to the kitchen. Melchior grabbed her waist and pulled her toward him.

"What's that suppose to mean?" He attacked her with kisses from behind. Then they stood there, holding one another in an embrace. "If you must know, I was thinking now that Ilse is married and moving out, we will have this place to ourselves. And we can do whatever we want-" He kissed her shoulder, tempting her by playing with the zipper of her dress.

"Oh gosh, I should've known!" She turned around and kissed him.

He dragged them to the couch, then she pulled away.

"Is that really what you were thinking about?"

Melchior sighed. "No. I was thinking, would you ever want to get married?"

Wendla thought. "To you? Yes. Right now? Not so much. I want to enjoy time together as a couple. I mean after everything with the baby, and us breaking up, then getting back together and Ilse getting sick. I think we should give it time. Are you proposing?"

"No. I was just thinking. I mean, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but you're right. What's the rush? We'll be together if we do it 7 years from now or 7 days from now." He kissed her neck.

"You're exactly right. But seven years is too long." Then her mouth was on his, kisses filling up the night.

****Wedding Bliss. I love weddings! That's all I got so, REVIEW!** **


	16. Chapter 16

****Read On. I have nothing. ****

Wendla and Melchior roamed the streets, holding each other's hand.

"So what do you want to do?" Melchior asked.

"Well, I need to get groceries so. We could eat then get them."

The stopped and ate then they were on their way to pick up the groceries. Wendla stopped in her tracks.

"Oh shoot! I forgot my purse! Will you go get it for me?"

Melchior laughed. "You're very forgetful today. Okay I will. I'll meet you at the store." He kissed her cheek.

Wendla sighed and went on her way. She was so happy. Everything was perfect, besides Ilse being sick. Melchior was loving and supportive. They were like a real couple. Yes, they had baggage, but both of them went through the same thing. There were no doubts of each other's love, no more mourning of loss. Yes, they missed Mina and would never forget her, but they have now accepted the fact that she's gone. They're sad that it all happened this way, but they were coping. She walked in the store, grabbing a basket. She took her time to get the food she needed. She could see a man out of the corner of her eye. She became stiff and turned a corner to get a good look at him. He seemed normal. She was going crazy always assuming something bad was going to happen, and it usually did. And this time was no different. Shots went off as a man holding a rifle pointed the gun in the air. Then he grabbed Wendla.

Melchior felt ridiculous walking down the street, holding a woman's purse. He laughed. Wendla has been forgetting everything lately. He walked into the market. He noticed everyone was on the ground. "Wendla?!" He went in a frantic. The shooter came around the corner and shot towards the noise. Melchior was reaching out to Wendla, and then he felt a piercing pain in his stomach. His knees gave out and he slumped to the ground.

"Melchior!" She tried to pull away from the man. The shooter was in shock. _All I needed was money. I didn't want to shoot anyone,_ he thought. He let go of Wendla and sprinted out the door. She rushed to Melchior. "Oh my God, Melchi! Hang on! Please!"

Sirens were heard as police came. It all happened in a blur. Medics came and took Melchior into a car. He held his eyes on her face, the way he would want to die. Wendla couldn't stop crying, clinging on to his hand. He was on a bumpy and long road to the hospital, and then he blacked out.

Ilse and Paul had left hours ago. They delayed their move to New York hearing the news. They had been there all day, and then left her to go home, telling her to get some sleep. But she couldn't. Why did this always happen to them? She squeezed his hand, begging him to wake up. The doctor said they had a little problem in the surgery, but he seemed fine. They just have to wait it out and see if he wakes up. She closed her eyes. "Please," she whispered as more tears slid down her cheeks. She dozed off, hoping that if he doesn't wake up, she won't either.

Melchior woke up to extreme pain. He looked at the clock, midnight. Wendla clutched on to his hand for dear life. He wanted to let her know that he was alright, but he didn't want to wake her. He steadily moved himself to the edge of the bed where his wound was away from the inside. He squeezed her hand. Wendla came to consciousness slowly. She looked disoriented at Melchior, and then noticed his eyes were open.

"Oh, Melchi!" she yelled, more tears streaming down her face. She covered his face and lips with kisses. Melchior intertwined his fingers in her dark locks and pulled her closer to him. "I thought I was going to lose you." She whispered.

He caressed his thumb across her cheek. "I thought I was going to lose you! That man had a gun pressed to your head. I'm glad I took the bullet."

Wendla gave him a disapproving look and kissed his lips.

"Come lay next to me. I made you room." Melchior said patting the empty spot next to him."

"Wait, where's your wound?" Melchior pointed to the other side. "Okay." She sighed wrapping her arm around him, careful not to touch his wound. "Why does this always happen to us?"

Melchior sighed, "I don't know, my love. It will get better. I promise." He kissed the crown of her head.

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

After two weeks in the hospital, Melchior could finally go home. The wound was closed and scabbed over and pink around the edges, but it wasn't as sore. They got a cab and made their way back to their little apartment. Wendla put him down on the bed and made him some food. She stayed by his side all day, making sure he has what he needs. Melchior dozed off and on all day long.

"Wendla," he mumbled in his sleep. He reached out for her. "Don't leave me. I love you." Wendla giggled and went in his arms, comforting his dreaming mind. She decided she wanted to hear what he would say. "We need to leave. Leave Germany," he snored softly, tightening his grip of Wendla. "We need to go to New York, start a life," another soft snore, "Let's have a child." Wendla was surprised that this is what he thought. It wasn't gibberish because it made sense. So he must've though this. She decided she would deal with it tomorrow. She just wanted to sleep in his arms, Melchior breathing and alive.

****So I kinda hate this chapter. Bad writing on my part. But I have noticed this recently. All of our favorite characters are shot! (SPOILERS) Les Miserables: Eponine is my favorite character and she's shot. Love Never Dies: Meg shoots Christine. Tangled: Flynn Rider is shot (But saved) And a bunch of others! Like for real? And in some Wicked Fanfictions I have read, Elphaba gets shot. But she lives What's up with that? So I hope you liked this chapter more than I did. ****Review and pretty please favorite/follow this story****** **


	17. Chapter 17

****I'm sad to say that one of the last two chapters left in SND… I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did… But let's not worry about it, just read and by the way, I really didn't mean to make Doctor Paul's last name Schmidt. I dumbly realized that in the play, Schmidt is the name of the Abortionist. PAUL DIDN'T DO IT! But we all know Paul is a good guy. Ha-ha woops. My bad. ****

Melchior recovered quickly from their last scare. Ilse and Paul left for New York a couple days later. A month later, Wendla received a letter saying Ilse was fine, and Paul got a job at the same hospital that she is getting treatment. Their apartment is small, but it suits them. And that she misses them.

The dream was like a light in the back of her brain. Wendla kept her mouth shut when his dream slipped into her thoughts. Then she couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"Melchior, why do you want to go to New York?" she blurted, quickly ashamed.

"I never said that…" Melchior said quietly, fixing a confused look on Wendla.

She nodded. "Yes you did. When we came home from the hospital, in your sleep you said you wanted to move to New York and," she gulped, "have another child."

Melchior got up from his seat to sit next to her. He grabbed her hands. "Wendla, you know I want to marry you. And I would like to have children. And I do want to move from here. Get away from this pain. Start a life with you. Ilse and Paul moving to America gave me an idea for it. I love you. If you're scared about what happened with Mina-"

Wendla shook her head. "No. I want a family. I agree. Let's do it."

Melchior was surprised at how much she agreed. "Marry me?" he said without a blink.

"Really? Are you sure?"

Melchior nodded. "I want out of here. I want to go to America with you."

"Okay. Yes." And her mouth was on his. She had an overflowing feeling of joy. She loved him. She _really_ loved him.

It was happening. They were leaving for America. Everything was packed and ready for the trip. They took a few minutes to just relax. Wendla layed against Melchior's chest, just taking in the little apartment they called home for the last time. Weirdly enough, someone pounded on the door. Melchior groaned.

"I'll get it." Wendla said kissing him. She walked to open the door and saw the last person she'd expect to see in the door: Fanny Gabor. She clamped her hand over her mouth and ran out of sight.

The frazzled Fanny Gabor gasped. "Wendla?! You're-"

Melchior jumped at the sound of his mother's voice. "Mother! What are you doing here?!"

Still in a daze, she replied. "I heard you escaped the reform school and that you were living with Ilse. I came to find you. I have news. What is she doing here? She is dead!"

Melchior sighed, 'Wendla, come back out." She came back into the room, her head low to not get eye contact with the woman at the door, and clutched his hand. "It's a long story, mother. The night I left the school, I was coming to meet Wendla at the cemetery. Somehow, Wendla escaped the abortion office- yes Frau Bergmann tried to kill Wendla's child- I almost committed suicide and Wendla stopped me. We wanted to be together but we couldn't go back home, knowing they assumed she was dead. We came to live with Ilse. Wendla was still pregnant. She had the baby, our daughter Mina, but the child didn't survive.-" he squeezed Wendla's hand "I wasn't, and never will leave her. We are leaving in an hour to America."

Fanny Gabor was in shock. He had been gone for a year and three months. She was surprised at how fast he matured. "My son. I'm sorry." She pulled her son in an embrace; one she had been praying would come sooner than it did. Melchior took his mother by the hand to the couch.

"So what's your news?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Melchior, your father has passed away."

Melchior was in shock. He and his father had a strong relationship, not one as strong as with his mother, but they did get along, until the end. They were both smart. They could sit and talk about mythology till nighttime. "What happened?"

"It was a heart attack. Melchior, he loved you very much."

Melchior sighed. "I'm so sorry mother. Are you okay?"

She nodded. "It's only been a month, but I'm okay. I miss him very much." She pulled out her handkerchief and changed the subject. "So America? What's there?"

Wendla finally spoke. "We just want to start over. We will be married when we land."

Fanny nodded. "Well I wish you safe travels." She twisted her engagement and wedding band off of her finger. "Wendla, I want you to have this." She placed the rings in the girls palm.

Wendla gasped. "Oh no, I couldn't-"

"No. I need you to have them. Please."

Wendla gave a small smile. "Yes Frau Gabor."

Fanny gave her a kiss on her forehead. "You both have my blessing. And you're secret's safe with me." She walked over to Melchior.

"Now my son, now that I know you're alive, I want letters. Okay? You take care of my new daughter in law and my future grandchildren. I'm so proud of you. You are the man I knew you would become one day. Stay safe. I love you." She pulled her son in a tight hug.

"I will Momma. I love you too."

There was not a dry eye in the room. Fanny almost left the door when Wendla screamed, "Wait!" she rushed to her luggage where her jewelry was. She grabbed a locket she had gotten as a child. "I want you to have this. A token of gratitude. Just don't let my-" she sighed, "my mother see it. She'll recognize it."

Fanny nodded and smiled, taking the token. "Goodbye my children." She walked out the door.

Wendla sighed and wiped the rest of the tears from her cheeks and looked at Melchior. He was about to break at the seems. "Oh Melchi," She pulled him into a hug, leaning her head on her shoulder. "it will be alright."

He sighed, pressing his lips to her hair "I know. I'm just glad I got to see her once more. Let's go."

Then they left the little apartment, and Germany. On to make a new life, one with a happier fate."

Melchior wrapped his arms around Wendla while standing on the deck of the ship. "With all that has happened to us, would you trade it?"

Wendla smiled. "Not for the world." She turned and kissed his lips, the sea wind flowing through their hair. The fateful spring is in the past, but it helped them into the future.

****Ta-da! Pretty much the End. Next "Chapter" will be like a epilogue. So. Thanks so much. XOXO****


	18. Chapter 18

****This is the End. Thank you, my lovely readers!****

Ilse and Paul we're happily married for thirteen years. They had two children. Ilse lived over her expected life span of twenty-two years. She lived till she was thirty-two, before her disease took her life. Paul never remarried, fully committed to Ilse and their children. He died at the age of sixty-five.

Wendla and Melchior were married the day they became citizens of the United States. They had four children, two boys and two girls. They lived in New York for three years, then moved to and settled down in Connecticut. They kept in touch with Fanny Gabor and Ilse and Paul. Wendla passed away at the age of 75. Melchior died three weeks after Wendla passed at the age of 77, unable to live life by her side.

_You watch me, just watch me. I'm calling. And one day, all will know._

****Boom. It's over. Sorry this is short, but I needed to sum it up, and my brain is fried of things for Spring Awakening. Thank you my readers! Farewell! And Be ready for my next story in the Les Miserables section (Different than that one-shot) See Ya! –As my final wish, you should review and tell me what you thought about the story!-****


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